Three Week Holiday
by Stacy Galore
Summary: After a rough breakup, author Theodore Nott uses the book advance from his publisher to go on a three week holiday with Blaise, Draco, and Pansy. Now that he's on the market again, the boys vie for Theo's affection as they tour a Costa Rican beach town, Venice, and Paris. Slash, threesomes, voyeurism, oh my! Theo/Blaise/Draco
1. Chapter 1

Three Week Holiday

Chapter 1: Correspondence

* * *

T:

You need to get over whoever he is and leave the house. I'm bored. Blaise and I are going to the Oiled Broomstick for a pint. You should join us.

-D

* * *

Dear Theodore,

I haven't heard from you in a long time. I'm beginning to worry about you. I tried to come by your flat today. I know you were home because I could hear the record player. I understand you're still feeling down about your breakup with Tristan, but really, don't you think two weeks is a long enough mourning period? Please let me cheer you up. At least, let me in to your flat. I bet you haven't cleaned or eaten properly in days. I could help you tidy up and make you a decent meal. I'll come by later tonight and bring your favourite chocolate croissants from the French bakery on Oxford Street.

Love,

Pansy

xoxo

* * *

Theo,

Draco and I missed you at the pub last night. We saw Tristan there. He seems to be completely over you. Don't you think you should be too? Come out to dinner with us tonight. I know this Asian-fusion place in Southend that's frequented by pretty things. Pick you up at 8. Wear something nice.

Blaise

* * *

Dearest Theodore,

We are slipping this note under your door because we know you're in there. We can hear you blasting that Merlin-forsaken depressing muggle rock music.

This is an intervention. You have been moping around for weeks. Tristan is not worth it. He is a two-timing slut and you deserve better. Please let us in, if not to let us help you, then at least to let us know you're not dead.

PS Draco brought a carton of cigarettes, I (Pansy) brought chocolate croissants, and Blaise has a bottle of firewhiskey. LET US IN.

Your best friends who love you dearly,

Pansy, Draco, and Blaise

* * *

FAX

To: Meredith Rodriguez, Altavista Agency, London

From: Theodore Nott

RE: Advance on new book from Harbinger-Bryce

Meri,

I would like an advance from Harbinger-Bryce Publishers to go on a three-week holiday. I'm going to bring two of my best mates and I'm hoping to write about the experience. Could you put a clever spin on this idea and run it by the powers that be over there? Let me know ASAP so that I can make travel plans. I'm thinking Costa Rica, Venice, and Paris.

Let's have lunch soon and we can talk about the book-signing tour in the States.

Thanks,

Theo

* * *

FAX

To: Theodore Nott

From: Meredith Rodriguez

RE: Advance from HB

Theo,

I have secured you an advance with the pretense that you are doing research for your book. Judging from the last book, I'm sure you and your mates will get up to all sorts of shenanigans that will make for good reading. Yes, let's have lunch before you embark on your holiday. I'd like to start booking you for signings very soon. Would you be opposed to speaking at a few LGBT-lit events at universities?

Meri

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you to Bex, Shannon, and Ashley for inspiring this story. We had been role-playing it on Twitter for several months and got as far as Venice. Each chapter was a piece I had posted on Live Journal to set-up the story line in the role-play, with the exception of the chapter on Paris._


	2. Chapter 2: Playa Virador, Costa Rica

Three Week Holiday

Chapter 2: Costa Rica

Warnings: Rated M for language and explicit sexual content, including slash.

* * *

Theodore watched Draco from across the dance floor. He saw him in flashes of light through the haze inside the steamy club: Draco propping up the bar, cocktail in hand, a look of superiority on his smooth face. Draco surveying the crowd of writhing, glistening bodies with a bored expression. Draco leaning over to whisper something into the handsome bartender's ear. Theodore wondered if Draco's charm translated well into broken Spanish. Judging from the bartender's grin, it did.

"Stop worrying about him. Draco's a big boy. He can take care of himself," Blaise said over the grinding Latin beats.

Theodore wasn't worried. He was fascinated. Draco, with his porcelain pale skin, blazer and tie, and regal carriage stood out amongst the scantily-clad, sun-kissed, intoxicated revelers in this Costa Rican reggaeton dance club.

"Dance with me," said Blaise, as he swayed behind Theodore, arms raised on either side of him, somehow managing not to spill his drink. Theodore was drunk and uninhibited enough to comply, surprising himself how fluidly his hips moved when lubricated by coconut rum and cola.

Blaise moved closer, rested his free hand on Theodore's hip, and undulated smoothly against his back, coaxing Theodore to move in sync with him. He could sense the heat radiating off Blaise's body through his damp clothes, feel his breath teasing hotly at the back of his neck. When Theodore felt something firm pressed against his backside, he knew Blaise wasn't just tipsy, but pissed drunk. Theodore knew that whenever Blaise was this inebriated, his sexual drive overpowered his rational mind. When he was like this, Blaise behaved as if it was perfectly acceptable to try to get into his best mate's trousers. For Blaise, even when not influenced by alcohol, sex had no consequences and no emotional attachments. Theodore usually felt the opposite, and thus could never indulge Blaise when he was feeling excessively familiar.

It was damn near impossible to keep one's self from falling prey to Blaise's seduction. He was the sort of bloke who made you feel sexy and adored when his eyes and hands were on you. Theodore knew that Blaise's adoration was fleeting, but was recklessly drunk enough to stop trying to resist him. He reached behind and hooked his hand on the back of Blaise's neck, encouraging his advances, swaying in tandem.

Blaise's hand slowly migrated from Theodore's hip, beneath the hem of his shirt, up to his abdomen, streaking lines across his sweat-glazed skin. With his back turned, Theodore could let himself believe it wasn't Blaise touching him so intimately. He could imagine it was some other suitor and let his body respond to his affections. But when Theodore glanced across the dance floor to the bar, Draco's silver eyes were on them, not glaring, but still narrowed with disapproval. Maybe Theodore was just imagining this. Draco's stare made Theodore turn away out of guilt. Now face to face, he couldn't escape the fact that he was dancing so closely to Blaise Zabini and something about it just felt a little bit wrong, like coveting your best mate's boyfriend.

Blaise hooked a finger under Theodore's chin and quirked that seductive grin of his. "Hello gorgeous." Then Blaise's full lips were on his. It was a soft, slow kiss; exactly the sort of kiss that always made Theodore melt. As a writer, he was one to kiss and tell, so it was no surprise that Blaise knew exactly how Theodore preferred to be kissed. He could feel his cheeks flush and his skin tingle with a rush of adrenaline.

Theodore took a step back and rested an outstretched hand on Blaise's chest to put distance between them, still dancing so that it wouldn't be misconstrued as confrontational. "You just can't do that, Blaise. You can't kiss me and expect it to be meaningless."

"I never intended it to be meaningless," replied Blaise, still smirking, hand returning to Theodore's waist to reel him back in.

Theodore chuckled with amusement. "Bollocks. I know you, Blaise. You just want to get laid." He continued sarcastically, gesticulating dramatically, spilling his drink, "Let's see. You're horny and drunk. We're in a foreign country in a decidedly straight dance club. Oh hey, _I'm_ gay. _And_ drunk. How convenient. Let's fuck." He grinned stupidly, hopefully conveying that this was not a genuine invitation.

Blaise winded his hips, pulling Theodore closer. "Shut up, Theodore. Don't sell yourself short. I don't want you just because you're here and you like to take it up the arse."

Still playfully snide, Theodore retorted, "Of course not. You want me because Draco's tired of being your fuck buddy."

"I'm not going to lie," began Blaise, pausing to take a healthy swig of his drink, glancing at the man in question. "Draco's been distant as of late. I can't help but think it's because you're back on the market."

Theodore stood still, raising his brow at Blaise skeptically. "That's quite an improbable correlation you're making. You're attributing Draco's reluctance to sleep with you to my relationship status?"

Blaise smirked and took a sip from his glass. "Those are big words for somebody who's had six rum and Cokes in the past two hours."

"I'm a writer. The size of my words increases exponentially as intoxication progresses," Theodore joked.

"That's fascinating," said Blaise, hooking an arm around the back of Theodore's neck. "The size of my erection increases exponentially as intoxication progresses, unlike most men." He raised his chin, gesturing towards Draco.

Theodore nearly spit out his drink as he laughed at Blaise's remark. "Extraordinary. Astounding."

"Oh, Theodore," Blaise moaned half-mockingly with his lips behind his ear, ghosting along his neck, "Your words are _so_ big. Give it to me, baby. I can't get enough."

"Phenomenal," Theodore purred, joking less with each word, delighted by the sensation of Blaise's lips on his sensitive flesh, "Exceptional... Incomparable." Quite involuntarily, his hand found it's way to the small of Blaise's back as they danced conspicuously close.

"Now that you've shown me what alcohol does to your words, don't you think I ought to show you what alcohol does to me?" he murmured sensually.

"Cheeky bastard," Theodore muttered. He didn't need Blaise to show it to him. He could feel Blaise's impressive erection pressing against his thigh and found that his own was awakening.

A shrill voice broke through Theodore's aroused, drunken haze. "Oi! You're going to get kicked out or beaten if you keep this up." It was Pansy. She was on the arm of an Australian surfer they'd met at the beach earlier in the day.

Theodore tried to act clueless, embarrassed that another friend caught him and Blaise behaving much more than best mates. "What? We're just dancing."

"Yeah, well you might want to dance somewhere else," suggested Pansy. "That bouncer is giving you the evil eye. And there's a group of blokes over there that don't look too pleased that a couple of poofters are on the dance floor." Theodore looked in the direction Pansy was inconspicuously indicating. Sure enough, the security guard, who was the only other person besides Draco wearing a suit, was staring at him and Blaise critically. Not far away were three men, probably locals, who looked equally unhappy.

"This is bollocks. Let's get out of here," resigned Blaise haughtily. "If they can't accept us, we won't spend our tourist Pesos here anymore. I'm done for the night anyway."

Pansy asked, more out of courtesy than anything, "Hey, is it cool if I stay? Andrew here just bought me a drink."

"It's Andrei," said the hulking, Aussie surfer.

"Andy. Whatever," said Pansy, dismissively, vaguely regarding him.

Theodore chuckled with amusement and gave her his blessing with a whispered warning. "If he gets fresh, don't be afraid to use your wand."

"Of course," said Pansy with a knowing grin. "And if Blaise whips out his, don't be afraid to use it." She winked and turned on her stiletto heels before Theodore had a chance to retort.

Blaise hooked an arm around Theodore's shoulders, ushering him towards the exit. They deposited their unfinished drinks at the bar and informed Draco of their departure.

"This club is filled with arseholes," declared Blaise, "None of which I'm remotely interested in penetrating. I'm leaving." He made no indication at all that he wanted Draco to follow.

Draco regarded both Theodore and Blaise dismissively, coldly, "Have a good night then." He looked straight ahead and sipped his drink.

Theodore felt another pang of guilt. Draco spoke volumes when he wasn't speaking at all, perfectly expressing his displeasure with aloofness. Theodore slipped out from under Blaise's arm and leaned his back against the bar so that he could face Draco. "Aren't you coming?"

Draco didn't look at him. He took a drink from his glass and replied impassively, "No, you two run along and have fun."

"We're not going anywhere else. Just back to the hotel," Theodore said casually.

Draco's eyes met Theodore's. They were blank. This was worse than Draco being outwardly angry, this silent rage. "Yeah, I know."

Before Theodore could say anything to try to smooth things over, Blaise tugged him away by the arm. "Come on, Theo. Draco's not coming." Both were spoken as a command, and Theodore thought he saw Draco scowl.

The hotel was so close to the nightclub, it didn't make sense to apparate. It wasn't advisable to do so anyway, considering how drunk Theodore and Blaise were. They walked the gravel road that ran along the other side of the beachfront resorts and restaurants, Blaise's arm around Theodore's shoulders again. The quiet of the evening, the cool night air, and the salty ocean breeze whispering with the waves were all very sobering. It became apparent to Theodore that part of their intoxication was due to the energy of the club. One couldn't help but get caught up in the fray and let inhibitions slide away. Now that they were outside, the haze of Theodore's mind cleared. He wondered if he should go back to retrieve Draco.

As they entered the lobby of the hotel, Theodore broke the still silence. "I think Draco's jealous."

"You're observant," said Blaise with a sarcastic snort. "Not the first time he's been jealous of me," he added with a smug grin.

Theodore paused, mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, wondering if he heard correctly. "No, I think he's jealous of me." Realizing how ridiculous and arrogant this sounded, he added, "I mean, I think he's not pleased that you left the club with me instead of him."

Blaise shrugged. "He had his chance. He could have danced with you. Bought you a drink. Taken you back to his room."

"No no no," Theodore shook his head. "I think you have it all wrong."

Before Theodore could explain his view of the situation, Blaise cut in, stopping in his tracks and turning to face him. "Don't be daft, Theodore. Draco's been keen on you for ages now. You _must_ have known that."

Theodore's face scrunched up incredulously. "But you and Draco…"

"…fuck each other casually because it's easy. Yeah," Blaise filled in. "But who he _really_ wants is you. Draco's not sore with _you_, Theodore. He's right well sore with _me_ because I had the audacity to steal you away."

"But…" Theodore's face was still frozen with the same expression of disbelief.

Nobody ever talked about it, but it was clear from Theodore's fictionalized accounts of it, that he had been in love with Draco since they were boys. Theodore had been fruitlessly pining away for the most desirable of the Unattainable for so long that he resigned to the fact that he would never have him. So discovering that this sentiment could be mutual came as quite a shock. He wouldn't dare let himself believe it, so devastating would be the disappointment if it were not true.

They were in the empty corridor, standing at the door to Theodore's hotel room now. He slowly took the keycard out of his pocket. Blaise grabbed his wrist, stopping him from slipping the key into the electronic lock. "You should stay in my room tonight. In case Pansy fancies bringing her Aussie back to your room." Blaise and Draco were sharing the room next to the one Theodore was sharing with Pansy.

Theodore raised his brow at Blaise with a knowing smirk, half-joking. "I thought you were more slick than that, Zabini. Whatever happened to seduction?"

Blaise returned his smirk keenly, stepping in close, pressing Theodore against the door with a hand on his chest. "Screw the pretense then. I'll give it to you straight." He leaned in, brushing his lips against Theodore's, and whispered hotly, "I want you. Draco doesn't have the balls to take what he wants. But I do." It felt so delightful to be wanted.

Theodore swallowed hard and leaned forward to kiss Blaise just as Blaise leaned back and away. Theodore bit his lip with a quiet moan, cursing Blaise's cruelty as he watched him saunter to the next door down the corridor. Theodore gave a resigned sigh and put his key in the slot.

Blaise opened his door and turned to Theodore with a seductive grin. "You coming?"

The next day, Theodore awoke before dawn to the sound of angry voices on the other side of the wall. Even if his head didn't hurt, these sounds would be very distressing. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got up from the bed, unable to ignore his bladder any longer. When he threw off the sheets, he saw that he was naked. He glanced around the room, lit only by the dim light of the window, looking for his clothes. In his search for underwear, he realized he wasn't in his hotel room. Everything was backwards – the bed and the door were on the opposite walls and the view outside the window was slightly different.

Blaise and Draco were arguing in the lounge just outside the bedroom of their suite. Theodore fished around the bed sheets for his clothes as he listened. He didn't mean to eavesdrop. It was impossible not to hear.

"We didn't abandon you at the club, Draco. We asked you to come, didn't we?"

"I don't recall being asked. I remember being told that you and Theodore were leaving."

"Oh please. It's not even like we left you alone. Pansy was still there."

"Pansy doesn't count."

There was a long, tense silence.

"Did you fuck him?"

"What?"

"You heard me. I think I have the right to know. Did you fuck him?"

There was another long pause.

"Well?"

"No! I didn't fuck him."

Then there was the sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh and a shocked, affronted cry. "Ow! Why the fuck did punch me for, Malfoy? I told you I didn't fuck him."

"But the intention was there and that's all that matters."


	3. Chapter 3: Venice, Italy

Three Week Holiday

Chapter 3: Venice

Warnings: Rated M for language and explicit sexual content. This chapter is much more graphic than the previous chapter.

* * *

"Don't… Blaise…"

Each word was a desperate plea, issuing as a soft whimper from Theodore's wet, parted lips. Each word was punctuated with a jagged gasp of air. Two small words, charged with emotion, carrying so many conflicting meanings.

_Don't do this to me._

_Don't let me do this._

_Don't fucking stop._

When he spoke these two words, Theodore's hips moved beneath Blaise, subtly thrusting his arousal through Blaise's firm grasp, in contrast to any sense of protest the words may have conveyed.

_Blaise, you're a selfish arsehole._

_Blaise, please._

_Blaise, fuck me._

_Blaise, you will never be Draco._

Theodore's words were ignored, or otherwise interpreted in a way that was most suitable to Blaise's own agenda. Blaise continued his thorough preparations, slicking his erection with lubricant and generously slathering Theodore's matching need in the same slow, ritualistic manner.

"Blaise… I can't," insisted Theodore with a defeated moan.

_Blaise, I can't stand you sometimes._

_Blaise, I can't let you do this to me._

_Blaise, I can't fucking wait any longer._

_Blaise, I can't do this to Draco._

Hazel, opalescent, seductive eyes, and a commanding touch so persuasive, even the most unwilling man could be reduced to begging for it - This was Blaise in that very moment. He ceased to be one of Theodore's oldest and dearest friends and became exotic Beauty of the most exceptional variety. He was lean, elegant muscle rippling beneath flawless, deep bronze skin. He was nestled between Theodore's legs and poised to penetrate all of Theodore's defenses. And he was certainly not hearing anything Theodore had to say about it. It was happening.

Blaise's silken flesh pressed against Theodore, gently requesting entrance. Though his body responded keenly to every caress and persuasive whisper, Theodore began to panic. A voice inside his head was screaming for him to stop.

_This is wrong. Selfish. Somebody is going to get hurt. Things will never be the same._

Another whine escaped Theodore's mouth between panting breaths. "Really, I can't."

And the voice in Theodore's head screamed insistently.

_No no no! Stop this right now! You can't do this to either of them! It's wrong!_

A voice broke through Theodore's internal dialogue. It was a cold, monotonous, emotionless voice. "Don't be such a pussy, Theodore. Blaise isn't _that_ big," said Draco quietly, devoid of his usual arrogant drawl. An impassive Draco was always more upsetting than an overtly angry Draco. This situation warranted some sort of emotion. The fact that Draco appeared to be completely aloof was heartbreaking. Theodore couldn't understand why Draco didn't care that his best friend was about to shag his would-be boyfriend.

Blaise's head snapped up and turned to address the man sitting in the armchair at the foot of the bed. "Oh really, Draco?" he said with a quirked brow, amused disbelief coloring his voice. "Seven inches isn't that big?" He brandished all seven inches to prove his point.

Theodore propped himself on his elbows, about to interject, when Draco countered blandly with a shrug, "It's a decent length."

Before Blaise and Draco could continue bickering about penis size, Theodore spoke up. "No, that's not it. I just can't do this. It's too weird. Normal people aren't supposed to watch their friends having sex."

"We're not ordinary people, Theodore," said Blaise.

"We're extraordinary," cut in Draco.

"And we're all much more than friends," added Blaise with a knowing smirk.

Blaise and Draco often finished each other's sentences. It was one of the things that made other people think they were a couple, rather than friends with benefits. It never bothered Theodore before, but now it irked him that Blaise and Draco were so in-tune with each other's thoughts. It was something Theodore never had with Draco.

Blaise turned his attention back to Theodore and asserted, managing to seamlessly switch on the seduction again, "You never seemed to have a problem with it when _you_ watched _us_." This could have been an affront, but it came off as smooth persuasion, coupled with the roll of his hips.

Draco and Blaise had a bit of an exhibitionist kink and occasionally invited Theodore into the bedroom to watch them having sex. Theodore was reticent to oblige, but after the first time, he realized he was invisible to them in these sessions. Neither addressed Theodore or so much as looked at him. It seemed that his mere presence was enough to satisfy their deviant predilection. And it was just as well. Theodore would have felt a hundred times more awkward if they'd actually acknowledged his presence. His "invisibility" allowed him to see Draco in a way he never thought he could – naked and wanting and beautifully vulnerable. It wrenched Theodore's heart a little bit every time he watched.

After a few more sessions, the imaginary one-way window started to come down. It began with a glance in Theodore's direction. A smug grin. A keen smirk. A knowing look that said, _You like to watch. _Then one day, the fourth wall broke. Draco and Blaise invited Theodore to participate. But he couldn't. Unlike his two friends, he could not separate intimacy and emotion, sex and friendship. He couldn't engage in anything physical without implications. Eventually, it became so routine that Theodore felt comfortable enough to reach inside his trousers to pleasure himself while watching. Of course, this amused both Draco and Blaise, who would tempt and taunt him. _It would be so much better if you'd just join us._

"No, it's different. Back then there were no feelings involved. Things have changed," said Theodore. The more he spoke, the stronger his conviction became. Now they weren't just words to placate the troubled conscience. They were words that reverberated through his body, as evident by his quickly fading arousal.

Blaise responded with the same reassuring, persuasive voice, "It hasn't changed at all. There were always feelings involved. We just weren't aware of them." As he said this, his hand gently stroked Theodore's throat and came to rest on his chest. It made him shiver. He absolutely loved the way Blaise made him feel so desired, but he did not love Blaise.

Theodore mumbled, "I don't even remember why we're doing this."

Draco answered, his voice still disturbingly empty, like he was reciting from a bland psychotherapy textbook, "Because it's supposed to relieve the personal tension between us, and allow us to move past our conflicts by giving everyone closure."

It seemed logical when Blaise had proposed it. But now it was preposterous. It wouldn't really make Blaise feel better about Draco and Theodore choosing each other over him. Allowing Theodore to sleep with Blaise couldn't possibly help Draco work through his feelings of betrayal. Theodore couldn't remember what he was supposed to get out of this.

Theodore sat up and murmured timidly, "Yeah, well, I don't think it's a good idea anymore."

"You can't bring me this far and then leave me hanging," complained Blaise.

Draco gave a small, annoyed sigh and slowly sat up from the armchair as if it put him out terribly to do so. "I'll take care of you, Blaise."

Theodore's heart lurched again.


End file.
